


Overdue for a Talk

by LoveandScience



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Love, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Self-Loathing, rated teen just because of a reference to torture but not very descriptive about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 18:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21432754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveandScience/pseuds/LoveandScience
Summary: Crowley lingered in the bookshop, wondering what excuse he could come up with to be around Aziraphale beyond walking him in after their lunch at the Ritz. Just our side, he had said. Crowley knew what he wanted, to an extent, but not what the angel would want. What it would change.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 142





	Overdue for a Talk

Crowley lingered in the bookshop, wondering what excuse he could come up with to be around Aziraphale beyond walking him in after their lunch at the Ritz. _Just our side_, he had said. Crowley knew what he wanted, to an extent, but not what the angel would want. What recent incidents would change.

He watched Aziraphale touch and explore the shop, getting used to the changes and deciding silently about little arrangements. Ignoring the much bigger change and arrangements that needed deciding.

“Can I get you a drink?” Aziraphale asked, noticing that the demon hadn’t made any move to leave.

“I should go,” he said reluctantly. Even if they had the freedom to be seen with each other now, didn’t mean Aziraphale wanted to spend any more time together.

Aziraphale looked at him, brows knitting with concern. “Crowley, what’s on your mind?”

Crowley looked down. “How- how do you think things might be different, now? Heaven and Hell off our backs, no obligations. I’m,” he trailed off, the word  _purposeless_ on his tongue but not quite right. He didn’t have to answer to Hell anymore, but Aziraphale was still there. Still a big purpose in his life, to keep him safe if that was all he could do.

“Before this,” the angel said carefully, “I couldn’t even let myself think about the possibility of what else we could be. Other than friendly beings on opposite sides, and that one day we would have to work very hard not to fight each other in a war with billions of casualties.”

Crowley waited for the blow. The admission that now that they were free to be more than friendly enemies, Aziraphale had realized he never really wanted that. That the sneaking around together had been fun, but what he really wanted was peace and quiet away from any foul fiends.

So his breath caught briefly when Aziraphale touched his shoulder  with exceeding gentleness that Crowley knew he would never deserve.

“I’m letting myself feel, fully, for the first time in a long, long time. The only thing I know for sure, is I want to be around you more, now that I’m not terrified that doing so will invoke the wrath of Heaven on you.”

Crowley leaned into the touch, leaned toward Aziraphale. “I know you said you didn’t feel even friendship for me, but I don’t think you understood I meant  _you,_ when I said I’d lost my best friend. And you were offended at the suggestion of running away.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to-” Aziraphale started.

“I know, you weren’t going to abandon humanity. You’re noble and good, you’re willing to sacrifice yourself. I guess that’s one thing we’ll never agree on; I’m not willing to sacrifice you.”

“Crowley,” Azirphale said softly. His hand dropped down to take Crowley’s. “You’re-,” he stopped himself. “Why is it hard to hear me compliment you?”

Their fingers brushed against each other soothingly in the touch, hints at wanting more than to hold hands but inability to move past this stage.

The demon looked away. “There were some early years, in the beginning,” he said, not comfortable to look Aziraphale in the eyes. “I mean, it’s Hell,” he tried to smile. “Anyone thinks you might be good, you get tortured.  Every time you call me that, or nice, it’s associated with pain, it’s ingrained now, they made sure of.”

Aziraphale’s heart squeezed painfully. “Crowley,” he started, gently.

“I’m fine,” he dismissed, finally looking at him. “Anyway, I want what you said, too. I want to be around you, I’m-” he dropped his gaze again. “I know logically that Heaven and Hell will let us alone for a while, but I can’t help thinking at any minute they could snatch you up and torture you again.”

“Wait, is that what happened to you in Heaven?” Aziraphale asked.

“Well, not torture, persay,” he shifted his weight uncomfortably. Why did he have to bring it up? He’d intended to hide what happened from Aziraphale, and to hope the angel never asked. “I didn’t want you to know, I wasn’t going to say,” he tried to amend. “They were going to let a demon hurt you, they said nasty, callous things. They were cold about it, your intended execution. I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale’s hold tightened on Crowley’s hand. “It’s okay, Crowley. I didn’t expect sympathy or remorse. You don’t have to keep it in to protect me.”

He reached forward with his other hand to push Crowley’s glasses gingerly up, resting them on top of the demon’s head. Crowley clamped down on his instinct to recoil at the vulnerability. Aziraphale was safe. Aziraphale wasn’t going to hurt him.

“I want to be here for you, too,” the angel said softly, meaningfully. “You’ve always been there for me, and I haven’t reciprocated. I’ve said so many things to you that I regret, thinking I was protecting you by pushing you away. You weren’t pushed away, you just were hurt, and I’m sorry.”

They seemed closer. Were they closer? Crowley’s throat tightened. He wanted this gentleness so deeply, it filled something in his soul, which was a surprise considering he wasn’t sure he had one. And he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction.

The angel’s face was closer, their lips were almost touching and it would have taken a small effort to tilt his head and close the gap. Crowley was frozen, though, warring with himself.

“You’re my best friend, Crowley, and I’m not afraid anymore. I trust you, I don’t want to keep anything from you, I want to be with you as much as you can stand me.”

As Crowley felt his body loosen,  the tension left him and he gave a small “ng” of defeat, letting himself kiss Aziraphale. What started as a release of pain from years of holding back and hating himself for not being good enough quickly developed into peace and comfort and a sense of rightness.

Aziraphale’s arms went automatically around Crowley’s neck as Crowley’s slid around his waist.

“If it was up to me,” Aziraphale said, as their lips parted, “you wouldn’t have to leave.”

“You mean, live together?”

“A step up from running away to be together. Sharing our spaces. Not having to look over our shoulder. Just knowing that at the end of the day, so to speak, we’ll be with each other. Yes.”

Crowley took the chance for another kiss, and Aziraphale made a happy, short hum. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that. But I’ve wanted this longer. We can figure out the logistics later,” he gave a hesitant smile, hoping he wasn’t pressuring the angel. His fears diminished when Aziraphale was the one to lean in for the next kiss.


End file.
